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If you’ve spent much time in New Orleans, you will probably recognize this landmark – Pascal’s Manale. The first time I ever ate there was in January of 1970 – a lifetime ago it seems. I’m a small-town girl who married a city-slicker guy, except that his city is still pretty small by New York, Dallas or Atlanta standards. We got to New Orleans by way of First Landmark Missionary Baptist Church on a balmy January evening and a wedding ceremony that we were both too exhausted to remember.

Courtesy of Pascal’s Manale 
 
New Orleans was our “destination” honeymoon – and it was a big deal for the two of us. Newlywed, practically penniless, with one of us still in college and the other freshly graduated on her wedding day (not smart, but we were young and in LUV), we opened ourselves up to all that N’awlins had to offer – or so we thought. Our first night was spent at the Roosevelt Hotel and its all you can drink champagne buffet. It didn’t take much champagne – we were just too pooped to party. Room service brunch the next day (well, it was more like lupper) was this mountainsized delight called Pancakes Oscar. Oh my goodness (OMG for all of you up-t0-date hip people)! We had enough pancakes to last us the first year of our marriage – having placed two orders, of course. These weren’t naked pancakes, however. Piled on top, around the sides and in between each flat, round circle of pecan buttermilk delight, was more whipped cream and strawberries than I had ever seen at a summertime ice cream social at FLMBC (the aforementioned wedding chapel).
 
We were well on our way to an authentic culinary indoctrination to NOLA. At that young age our metabolisms were still running rampant, so we could actually finish off that concoction and go looking for more eats. Which brings us to Pascal’s. This is where hubby and I first made acquaintance with barbecue shrimp.
 
I had eaten lots of barbecue – my dad was known for his – but I had never eaten shrimp prepared this way before. It was love at first sight for the both of us. We’ve been back to the Crescent City several times since and always manage a trip to PM. Some traditions( and husbands) are worth hanging on to.
 
This is my scaled down, easy for a work night version. It lacks the ambience, but you can create that on your own. Mardi Gras decorations are probably on sale at your local Hobby Lobby, so go stock up and make this dish. Grab some really good sour dough French bread while you are out. You will need it to sop (yes, I said sop) up the spicy (very fattening) juice in which the shrimp has cooked.
 
We typically make this barbecue shrimp using Royal Reds from our beach trip excursion to Joe Patti’s. If you’ve never been to this famous fish market, you really ought to put it on your bucket list of places to visit. And if you’ve never eaten Royal Reds, well it’s about time you did!
 
 
bbq shrimp vert